Overhead
by muaaimoi
Summary: In which Xander has serious problems long before he learns about the Hellmouth.


**Overhead**

_**by:muaaimoi**_

The first time it happens, Xander is six years old. He only realizes this looking back on it.

At the time he still thinks he's still five, he's looking down at a math test in his kindergarten class with his name written on it. He recognizes the handwriting from his own clumsy attempts, but he doesn't remember writing it. He doesn't remember coming to school, putting on the clothes he's wearing, or anything about the numbers on the test.

The last things he remembers is yelling and his dad hitting him in the face.

Hard.

He carefully touches his cheek. Then the other one. But there's no pain. Sometimes that just mean it's gone purple and he can't feel it. Like when his mother used to drag him around when he was really little. Her hand would leave marks on his wrist that he'd poke at and couldn't feel. But he can feel his fingertips on his face, so that can't be it.

He looks around, spotting Willow, and feeling a little better. Willow is a lot smarter than he is. He's sure she'll help him figure it out.

Feeling just a little better he turns back to the paper in front of him. He does the best he can. He knows some of the numbers, but he's not sure what the little dash next to them means. So he treats them like pluses instead.

He gets a zero on the test. Willow is too busy scolding him and explaining about subtraction to talk to him about his problem. He shrugs it off. It's not a big deal. At least it's not until the day when he looks at the date and realizes he forgot his birthday. But even then, it's not like anyone else but Willow cared. And he found a firetruck poster in his room that looked new. He'd known exactly who gave it to him. It hadn't been his parents.

It happens three more times before he turns ten.

He remembers bits and pieces of what he forgets, sometimes. But he's never managed to remember his sixth birthday. Or that moth when he and Jesse became friends. Man had Jesse been upset with him 'pretending' not to know who he was. Xander doesn't know how to explain that his dad hits him pretty hard in the head sometimes.

It's not somethings he's ever told anyone.

It's not so bad. He has Willow to explain schoolwork he forgets. And then Jesse to recount the adventures they have around town. It's easy to smile and 'remember'.

Then he follows Jesse to class one morning and finds himself in a new classroom with a new teacher.

He never manages to remember any of seventh grade.

By high school, he has a handle on it. Mostly.

He checks his calendar before he leaves the house everyday. Leaves notes to himself about anything important.

Meets Buffy sophomore year and writes out a quick Vampire tutorial. He's not sure he actually can forget what happened to Jesse. But he writes it out just in case. It's not something he'll allow himself to ever forget. No matter how much he wants to.

Buffy makes school more interesting, but he has to be careful with all their lives on the line. He keeps careful track of what they're fighting and when it was. Makes sure to memorize anything important every morning.

He comes to one afternoon in a graveyard, neck achingly sore. Nothing makes sense until he gets home. The bruises on his neck were made by Faith. Not long after he'd lost his virginity to her. It had been a bad time for him recently it seems. He'd broken up with Cordy, cheated on her with Willow. He reads his own story back to Valentines day. The last thing he remembers is buying Cordy a necklace.

He'd gotten dumped that Valentines Day.

She had taken him back, but they hadn't lasted long after.

He sighs. Wonders at the things he does, things he's now responsible for, even if he doesn't remember any of it.

He feels like there's another person, someone who looks and talks like him, someone who just shows up and takes over whenever they feel like it. And then leave when their done.

Actually...He stops, drops his journal, Diary seems too girly a word. He needs to research possessions.

Some possessions are considered a mental illness by those who know nothing about things that go bump in the night. His situation is nothing like a possession He should have known. He's been possessed. Twice now, even. But he knows the difference between his memories and the ones that aren't his. He doesn't have any extra memories from his time under. He has the very opposite problem. He can't remember.

He wonders if he's sick, or maybe just crazy.

It scares him sometimes. After loosing Jesse. His life is no longer simple. He might wake up one day and find Willow dead. Just like he came to himself last summer to find miss Calendar dead. It had been awful.

And now, he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to tell Willow. It's something that been going on since they were kids, telling her now feels like a bigger betrayal than not telling her then ever had been. Buffy is an even worse choice. Especially now, with the evil Mayor and enough problems of her own. Cordy isn't even a candidate. Neither is Oz, especially since he'd apparently thought it was a great idea to smooch his girlfriend.

He can't even picture telling Giles.

It's not even surprising that he's on his own. Of course he is. He always is, it's nothing new.

Somehow they survive graduation.

Then there's Anya.

Glory comes. Buffy dies, and every thing's just awful.

They bring Buffy back. Things get just a little better. Turns out they dragged Buffy out of heaven, everything goes to hell.

The thing is, he really, really likes Anya. Loves her even. Which is why he can't figure out why on earth he leaves her at the altar. He comes to himself after the fact. Drunk off his ass. He stays that way for what feels like a long time.

The one great thing about Harris genes. He comes from a long, long line of functional alcoholics. Also, if you have a few shots before you brush your teeth you can completely avoid detection of super senses of smell. Everyone considers him a clumsy dolt anyway. So what if he trips now and again. It's not like he's worried about bumping his head.

Anya becomes a demon again, fucks spike.

Tara dies, Willow goes vainy and evil. Tries to blow up the world. Giles does something to stop her. He buys time.

He manages to remember almost an entire year. It's progress.

He comes to and he can only see out of one eye. He reaches up to touch his eyelid, finds a leather eye patch.

He's alone in a grave yard with two girls.

" Got him!" One exclaims happily twirling a stake.

" Are you okay Xan?" Asks the other, putting a hand on his shoulder." I think you hit your head pretty hard on that tomb stone."

"Fine." Xander lies." Just a bump."

He follows them home. Wanders the house full of what appear to be slayers with slow, unhurried footsteps. Finds himself walking on autopilot towards a door. Nearly cries in relief when he figures out it's his. Some fumbling on his pillow proves him right. The journal is different, but the cheeky Hello on the first page is the same. He wonders what happened to the old one.

' Hiya old me! Welcome back, so now were missing a limb. Should have seen it coming. Didn't, so now we've only got one eye. Take very good care of it. I don't want to be completely blind.'

He skims through the first page. Learns about the SIT's and the Sunny-dale crater. Anya's death.

He sits there, numb with shock. He flips absently through the journal. It's over half full.

He checks the date of the last written page.

It's June third, two thousand thirteen.

Xander is not okay.

**x**

**I don't know why, but in my head cannon Xander is someone who gets hit on the head a lot...This is basically the result of that.**


End file.
